


Who You Desire the Most?

by Iamfandomtrash162



Series: Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamfandomtrash162/pseuds/Iamfandomtrash162
Summary: Keith wanders around the castle remembering all the good and bad memories at Hogwarts. That is until he stumbles across the Mirror of Erised where everything becomes clear.





	Who You Desire the Most?

**Author's Note:**

> In the Light of Voltron ending today I thought I would write a Klance one-shot to give us hope. Also obsessed with Harry Potter so it was inevitably coming.

The hall was coated in the moonlight, shadows casted from the flickering flames of the fires along the pillars. The castle was peacefully quiet, each student curled up in their dorms, sleeping, the night full in the sky. All except Keith. Keith could never get to sleep, his head full of thoughts of all the battles he’s been through, the deaths he’s seen. Sometimes he wished he could oblivate himself. Forget the pain of the past and live a life in blissful ignorance. But he couldn’t because even with the endless amount of nightmares that haunted his nights, the friends he had made, Pidge, Hunk, even Lance of all people, has filled him with a light he hasn’t seen since his parents died. So he wandered down the empty halls, playing with his wand in his hand aimlessly as time went by. He regretted not bringing his woollen green jumper, the drafty breeze setting the little hairs along his arms and legs upright, shivers running down his body. He rubbed his leather-bound hands together, hoping the friction would generate some heat. He didn't want to risk getting caught by casting a spell. He didn’t need to lose any more points for Slytherin or Snape would have his head. Not that he cared about that.

Each night he wandered he tried to find new corners of the castle unexplored, untouched by everyone but him. But being here for now 5 years, there is so much of the drafty old castle that you can search through. Sometimes he would come across the room of requirement, shaping into different needs each time. One time it was as simple as a bed in the centre of the room, a vile filled with a small dose of sleeping draught inside. The shame of the draught is that you can’t predict how long you will sleep for, Keith ending up sleeping for a day uninterrupted, emerging to the Headmaster by his side in the hospital wing, a calm look upon his face, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. After that he never had the draught again, succumbing to the fact that he lacked the ability to sleep, period. That was until he was so exhausted he would fall asleep in class, Lance somehow persuading the teacher’s to leave him be. 

Lance.

Sometimes his mind would wander to that boy’s name, hovering, his bright smile that travelled up through his eyes burnt into his mind. When the two started they fell into this rivalry that honestly Keith never understood. He could say it was the day he was sorted into Slytherin, the natural born rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin that conjured it out of thin air. Or when they both were selected to be the seekers on their respective quidditch teams. Whatever it was, they bickered constantly. The time spent in detention was endless, the constantly frustrated sigh leaving both McGonagall and Snape was something that will forever be drilled into his mind. Third Year was probably the worst of it. Keith chuckled at the thought, remembered one particular potions lesson that didn’t end so well.

 

***

 

_ “Today we will be making a simple draught that even you pathetic imbeciles could comprehend.” Snape droned as he instructed the class about the potion they were making today. _

_ “Mine is going to be so much better than yours, mullet,” Lance whispered to Keith.  _

_ “You wish.” _

_ “You know not everything is a competition,” Pidge raised her eyebrow. _

_ “Now,” Snape raised his voice slightly, ending their conversation quickly, “you will complete this in pairs of my choosing.” _

_ Groans echoing around the dungeon, Keith moving his stool as far away from Lance as he could.  _

_ “Silence!” _

_ Snape swooped down to the front of the class. _

_ “The pairs are as follow Acxa you’re with Lotor, Allura with Romelle, Pidge and Hunk, James and Kinkade, Lance and Keith…” _

_ “WHAT! There is no way I am being paired up with mullethead here!” _

_ Snape turned to face the pair, his beady eyes staring directly at Lance. _

_ “Do you have a problem Mr McClain?” _

_ “Professor I can’t work with Keith. Can’t I work with Hunk or Allura?” _

_ Keith scoffed at that. Of course he would want to work with Allura. _

_ “And why should I give you special treatment?” Snape hissed. _

_ “See here, Keith and I have this rivalry and you just can’t work with your rival!” _

_ “What makes you think I care about this?” _

_ “Umm….” _

_ “That’s what I thought,” Snape turned, flicking his robe as he walked away from the two. _

_ Lance sulked to himself, Keith groaning. _

_ “You know what, let me make the potion and you can go and talk to Allura or whatever,” Keith grunted, Lance snapping around towards him. _

_ “And let you get all the house points? Nope, not happening. I’m making the potion.” _

_ “We’re meant to be working together!” Keith reminded him, Lance flicking him away. _

_ “Just stay out of my way while I ace this.” _

 

_ “Do you even know what you’re doing?” Keith grunted. _

_ “Of course I know what I am doing! Just keep you and your mullet out!” Lance snapped. _

_ “You’re adding too much ginger.” _

_ “Am NOT!” Lance raised his voice, everyone turning their heads towards them, Keith ducking his down to avoid the glances. _

_ “Whatever, your fault when this fails…” whispered Keith as he grumbled to himself, brooding as Lance had said while he tried to finish the potion.  _

_ “Hand me the porcupine quills would you?” Lance asked as he stirred the pot, his tongue slightly out as he concentrated. Keith’s stomach flipped, quickly turning his head as he searched for the last ingredient. When he came back Lance was sweet talking the Gryffindor girl with long blonde hair, Keith huffing as he chucked the quills into the pot, the liquid splashing onto both his and Lance’s robes.  _

_ “HEY! What the hell was that for!” Lance yelped, his face moulding into a scowl as he wiped the potion furiously off his sleeve. _

_ “Whoops,” Keith smirked, barely looking up as he read the last step. Just as he was drawing his wand Lance flicked it away. _

_ “No no no no, I’m the one that did all of the work, I’m finishing it.” _

_ “That’s because you wouldn’t let me help you, idiot!” _

_ “Whatever.”  _

_ Lance looked down at the instructions and got his wand out. _

_ “I’m casting the spell,” Keith spoke. _

“No I am!”

_ Ignoring the other, the two fired the spell, the potion exploding all over the room, covering everyone in sticky goo.  _

 

***

 

Thinking back it was ridiculous how they used to fight, that little instance landing both of them detention for two weeks, alongside missing their first Hogsmeade trip. However somehow they have grown from then, their rivalry buried in the past, replaced with a newfound friendship that he didn’t know he needed. Putting aside the fact he was a Gryffindor, he wasn’t a bad guy, his jokes slightly tolerable and his loud contagious personality something that Keith slowly has become accustomed to. Lance had a way of lighting up the room with just his smile, talking to anything that breathed like they were old friends. It was something to admire. He even managed to land a prefect role. Keith remembered the day Lance received the letter, they were all staying at the McClain house for the week going into the new year, Christmas fresh in their minds. The smile on his face as he opened the wax sealed letter set the butterflies rumbling in his stomach, Keith having to run out of the room to hide his reddening face. To say his feelings for Lance has changed since first year would be an understatement but it was a lost cause. Lance had feelings for Allura. Head-over-heel type feelings. Something that he could never compete with.

 

Keith shook his head, wrapping his arms around his chest. He hated where his mind would go. Long ago he had come to terms with the fact he would never have a chance with Lance, the aching slowly simmering as the time went by. But it was times like these when all the memories flashed back that re-lit the flame that had died long ago. Something changed this year, him and Lance becoming closer than they have ever been. The endless nights of Keith sneaking into the Gryffindor common room, sitting by the window with Lance, giggling in hushed voices. The nights where Lance would convince him to explore the forbidden forest with him, running and hiding from the weird and frightening beast that would appear. 

 

***

 

_ “Come on!” Keith yelled as he gripped Lance’s wrist, the two running as a beast emerged through the darkness, its bright blue and green wings glowing in the moonlight as it soared.  _

_ “What the hell is that thing!” Lance yelled as they dodged passed the endless trees, ducking and weaving the low branches and random rocks placed along the ground.  _

_ “Who cares!” Keith snapped, pulling Lance down as the beast swooped down at them. Lance stumbled slightly but kept running, Keith glancing back and forth from the path in front of him and the boy beside him.  _

_ “Well sorry for wanting to know what thing is trying to kill me!” _

_ Keith scoffed as his eyes scattered around, trying to find a place to hide from the spiked winged beast. All he could see is tree trunks, Keith having no idea where he was.  _

_ “This way!” Lance yelled, Keith being yanked in the opposite direction to where he was going. Lance dragged him towards a huge oak tree, roots overwhelmingly large. Lance ran towards a gap between two roots. _

_ “There’s not enough room for the two of us,” Keith hissed. _

_ “You can fit,” Lance said, reaching out for his hand. _

_ “I don’t know…” _

_ “Well unless you want to become that thing’s next meal I would get your ass in here!” _

_ Keith hesitated, gazing up to meet Lance’s eyes, so blue and bright and sighed grabbing Lance’s hand. Lance pulled him into the hiding spot, the sound of the creature swooping above them startling them both, Lance grabbing Keith’s hand. They held their breath as they waited for the creature to pass, the sound of gurgling growing softer and softer until finally it was gone. _

_ “Do you think it’s safe?” Lance asked, his voice soft, wavering slightly at the end. _

_ “I think so…” _

_ Keith gazed down, Lance’s hand still intertwined with his. Lance noticed too, the two looking at each other before ripping their hands from each other.  _

_ “Ah.. um,” Lance coughed up, rubbing the back of his head. _

_ “Thanks for saving us,” Keith murmured, Lance looking up. _

_ “Why are you thanking me? You’re the one that noticed the damn thing before it could attack me.” _

_ “A swooping evil,” Keith corrected. _

_ “A what?” _

_ “That’s the name of the creature. A swooping evil. It’s a cross of a snake and butterfly.” _

_ Lance stared at him for a moment before breaking into a laughing fit. Keith bit his lip, feeling embarrassed and stupid. He frowned, moving to leave the gap when a hand grabbed his shoulder. _

_ “Wait!” Lance exclaimed. _

_ “For what? For you to be done laughing at me?” Keith snapped. _

_ “No, you idiot. I was laughing at the fact that of course YOU would know the name of that damn thing. Laughing at the situation we always seemed to get ourselves into. Not at you,” Lance sighed, shaking his head. _

_ Keith blushed slightly at his stupidity. _

_ “Sorry,” he mumbled. _

_ “Don’t be. Now I don’t know about you but I’m getting claustrophobic all up in here,” Lance smiled, meeting his eyes, his smile melting away all his negative feelings, leaving just them together, and nothing felt better. _

 

***

 

Keith smiled at the memory, bittersweet. His feet scuffed along the stone floor, Keith finding himself walking down a dimmed hall. He wished he could go back to those times when everything was just colourful and light. But it wouldn’t be him if it was a happily ever after. Keith scolded his thoughts, trying to shake away the aching feeling that clung tightly to his chest. His hand glossed over the walls, lifting slightly to miss the paintings that hung elegantly along them. He doesn’t even know where he’s going at this moment. Back to his dorm maybe? The bags under his eyes hung heavy and dark, a week’s worth of sleepless nights and long days. Keith sighed, stumbling down the enchanted staircase. His hand bumping the frame of a familiar painting, Keith’s breath caught in his throat. He pulled out his wand pointing towards the blur of where the painting would be. 

“Lumos,” he spoke in a hushed voice revealing the painting image, release a hurricane of emotions at the sight. The fat lady. The Gryffindor’s common room. The years he had spent wishing that he was sorted into that house, that the hat made a mistake, was hard to count. The longing to be a part of something beyond his control was a pill that he could never swallow. It was hard being in Slytherin, locked up far away in the dusty dark walls in the dungeons below. His only friends were outside his house, the times spent solely with his house being the worst of them all. Why did he have to be put in Slytherin? Pidge was in Ravenclaw, Hunk in Hufflepuff and Shiro, Allura and Lance, Gryffindor. Lance. A wave of guilt and pain broke away with such ferocity it left him dazed, his vision blurred. It was too overwhelming, especially for his tired brain. Keith stumbled back at the rush of memories that overwhelmed his mind, so much so he didn’t realise how close he was to the edge of the stairs. One foot misplaced sent him tumbling down. His hands clasped around his head to cushion the pain, the sound of his body thudding against the marble bounced around him. 

“Mrs Norris, did you hear that?” Keith heard Mr Filch say, frustration bubbling inside of him.

“Fuck.”

His fight or flight instincts kicked in, Keith glancing one last time at the painting above before sprinting the rest of the way down the stairs, towards a door signed Restricted. He reached for the knob, tugging and pulling viciously, the rattling of the old metal creating even more noise. 

“Come on,” he cursed as he shoved again, unable to open the damn thing.

“This way Mrs Norris.”

Keith grumbled as he held his wand out.

“Alohamora.”

A spark igniting from the tip of his wand, Keith reaching again for the knob, sighing with relief as he slips through the open door. 

 

***

_ Laughter erupted from him and Lance as they raced down the hills just outside the castle, making their way to the Quidditch field. They shoved each other with each step, Lance sharing a smile so wide that it sent Keith’s head spinning. The blue sky hung radiantly above them, clouds skimming the soft rays from the sun, giving Lance this holy glow. As though a halo hung just above his head, his wings hidden from the rest of world. Keith blinked at his thoughts. Wow, he was a mess. _

_ They stumbled underneath the wooden stands, finding themselves in the locker room. Brooms hung along the walls, a locked box sitting prominently in the centre.  _

_ “Did you even ask McGonagall if we could practise?” Keith asked, Lance smirking cheekily as he ran his hand along the side of the box. _

_ “What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” he smiled, the box clicking open, the bludgers shaking furiously. _

_ Keith laughed softly, shaking his head as Lance reached for the quaffle. _

_ “Scoring practise or snitch?” _

_ “Lance we’re seekers.” _

_ “I know I know, but maybe we could shake it up a bit,” Lance joked, Keith smiling as his face melted into a smile so bright it put the stars to shame.  _

_ “Maybe…” _

_ Lance jumped with glee, tucking the quaffle under his arm and grabbing a broom, racing out the door. Keith laughed as he grabbed the snitch just in case, slipping the golden sphere into the pocket of his tight black pants before racing after Lance, a broom in hand.  _

 

_ When he reached the field Lance was already in the air, weaving and dodging imaginary opponents as he aimed for the posts. A small smile crept onto his lips as he watched, Lance flying closer and closer to the posts on the far end of the field. He could tell he was concentrating, Lance strategic and calculating like that when it came Quidditch. There’s a good reason why he isn’t in Ravenclaw, Lance not being the brightest of the bunch but he was still smart, just not academically. And Keith wouldn’t have it any other way. He saw as Lance threw the leather-bound quaffle through the top post, a cheer erupting from his lungs before he realised it was his own voice. Lance dove to retrieve the ball, flying back with an aura of pride and joy that sent Keith’s heart racing.  _

_ “Did you see that!” Lance exclaimed as he got close, directing the broom so he was at eye level with Keith. _

_ “Nice shot.” _

_ “What can I say,” Lance smirked as he ran a hand through his hair “I’m a natural.” _

_ “We’ll see about that,” Keith teased, sliding onto his own broom, Lance giving him a cocky smile before getting in position, Keith following, falling into defence. Lance threw the ball into the air, playing around. _

_ “If you’re such a natural then me defending you wouldn’t be a problem,” Keith smirked. _

_ “Not one bit.” _

_ Lance caught the ball, looking towards him. _

_ “Best of three?” _

_ “If you can even score one, sure.” _

_ Keith laughed as Lance acted all defensive, pretending to be offended to hide the laughter bubbling in his voice. _

_ “Eat dirt mullet,” Lance teased, turning his broom around to fly to the centre of the field, Keith moving closer to the posts. _

 

_ Lance did score. Eventually. Maybe Keith let him get past him, but the look of pure happiness in his face was worth the scrutiny that would follow. Lance pranced about, trying to dance while flying his broom, whooping and cheering. Keith laughed at his goofiness, biting his lip as he turned his way towards him. _

_ “Ha! Take that Mullet! Who just scored? That’s right, THIS GUY!” Lance taunted as point finger guns at himself. _

_ “Well done.” _

_ “I’m the master of Quidditch! Nothing can stop me,” Lance cheered, tucking the quaffle under his arm. _

_ Keith smiled, a sense of mischief emerging from within. He pulled out his wand, watching as Lance was clearly distracted by his winning dance.  _

_ “Accio quaffle,” Keith whispered, the ball soaring from underneath Lance’s arm towards him, Keith catching it in an instant. The sudden loss sent Lance losing balance, hanging underneath his broom. Keith chuckled as Lance grumbled, trying to get himself back upon his broom right-side up.  _

_ “Hey! What was that for?” _

_ “You’ve been hogging the ball all this time. Thought I might have a go,” Keith smirked as he tossed the quaffle in the air.  _

_ “‘Think you can beat the master?” _

_ “I didn’t know Shiro was here?” Keith teased, a scoff leaving Lance’s lips. _

_ “Don’t feel bad if you can’t get one in, not everyone can be as amazing as me.” _

_ “Just shut up and guard the post,” Keith laughed, Lance smiling as the two moved into position.  _

_ Keith took a deep breath, running his hand along the leather to find the perfect spot to grip. He glanced up towards the posts, calculating the path he should take. At least he tried. But once he caught hold of Lance, everything flew out the window, leaving just him. He wasn’t doing anything in particular. His hovering there, the sun brushing along his golden skin, his hair shining in the light. It was truly a sight. Keith didn't know how he could move let alone concentrate without making a fool out of himself. The banter he could handle, hidden messages strung together that left him satisfied but Lance clueless. Now, seeing him, silence swirling around him? It was hard to breathe. No. Snap out of it Keith. He liked Allura. Breathing out his gripped the ball tight, clinging closer to broomstick. He counted to three. One. Two… _

**_CRASH_ **

_ One minute he was sitting on his broom, the next, he was plummeting to the ground. He quickly drew his wand, casting the spell ‘Arresto Momentum’ to slow his fall. That was until something crashed onto his back, his body slamming into the ground. _

_ “What the h-” _

_ “I--- I’m so sorry,” Lance muttered, Keith maneuvering himself to see Lance on top of him, his hair a mess. _

_ “It’s.. um..” Keith lost his words, his eyes locked with Lance’s. Butterflies flew rapidly in his stomach, his skin on fire at his touch. Lance was on him. Straddling him. It was too much. Yet it was just enough. The way he looked so soft as he stared down at him. The way he bit his lip when he was nervous. The way his eyes twinkled when he was excited. He knew that he couldn’t hold it in anymore. All this passion, this, this… love. Love? Yes, love. Keith loved Lance. He couldn’t deny or hold it back any longer. With Lance looking down at him like that, barely moving he knew this was it.  _

_ “Lance,” Keith hushed, bright blue eyes refocusing to him. _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ Keith cupped his hand around Lance’s face and pulled it to his, lips touching instantly. His lips were soft and sweet, like fresh strawberries. It was an explosion of adrenaline and light, everything and nothing falling and breaking away. People always said they saw fireworks. That wasn’t nearly close to what he was feeling. It was all he ever wanted but it didn’t last. Lance pulled back, shock coated his face as he scattered off him. _

_ “Lance wait..” Keith tried. _

_ “I--- I’m not… gay okay?” Lance stuttered, backing slowly away from him. _

_ “I’m sorry, I just thought…” _

_ “You thought wrong,” Lance cut him off, his hand covering his mouth as the words spilt. Silence whafted the air around them, stale, the tension so thick it could be cut by a Phoenix’s claws. Keith’s heart was racing, this is exactly what he feared, his nightmares becoming a reality. _

_ “Is it wrong? Do you have a problem with…” Keith couldn’t even finish his sentence, his voice becoming smaller with every second ticking by. _

_ “No… I’m just… I gotta go,” Lance stumbled, picking up his broom as he headed towards the lockers. _

_ “Lance, please! I’m sorry!” _

 

***

 

Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, Keith anchoring his shaking body against the hard wooden door. Heat radiating off his skin, his head was spinning, racing, overwhelming. He could stop thinking about… thinking about. It was a mistake, something he wished he had a time turner for, to clean up the mess he made. The weeks that lead after the incident were pure torture. Lance barely looked at him, avoiding him between classes and at meal times. The group noticed too but every time someone asked, Keith just shrugged them off, blaming their stupid old rivalry. He never realised how much he craved that interaction, the need to hear his voice, the banter, jokes, smiles, laughs. The tears slowly eased, eyes stinging hot and red. He felt like his insides were disappearing, fading with every waking minute he sat there. The sound of footsteps snapped his attention in seconds, fear clawing up his throat. He took a deep breath, wiping his nose along the ends of his sleeve before pushing himself up from the ground. Dizziness took over slightly as he stood, calming down as Keith leaned against the stone wall. He held his wand out, whispering the words before a wave of light cascaded out of the tip, a ball of light hovering in the air. Keith was too busy melting down to notice where he was. Now with his tears at bay he scanned the room around him. It was dusty and dark. Empty. At least that was what he thought. The wispy mist that glowed guided him across, leading him to a large golden frame that towered over him, standing tall in the centre. There was a dusty grey cloth covering the front. Tattered and full of tiny holes. He noticed a handprint, the same size as his own, the only part of the cloth that wasn’t coated in layers of dust. Someone had been here. Keith’s shaky hands reached out, hovering over the hand before grasping the thin piece of material, tugging it down. Dust swirled around him as he stared at the object in front of him. At first he saw himself, standing there, his eyes blotchy and red, his shirt clinging to his chest, too thin to keep any warm. Then something happened. The reflection blurred, moulding and changing until he saw someone else, someone that wasn’t him. 

Lance.

Standing there, vivid as if he was right there in front of him. His smile radiating through the glass. A smile that reached his eyes, twinkling. Keith sighed, his breath caught in his throat at the sight. Why would this mirror of sorts show him this? Another figure appeared, like mist, the Lance in front of him slipping his hand with theirs. It was him. A bit older, his hair grown out more but it was him. His eyes flicked back to Lance to see he had aged slightly as well, turning and smiling all giddy like at the older version of himself. It was all hard to take in, a dream and nightmare wrapped into one. Why was it showing him this?

“The Mirror of Erised.”

Keith jumped at the voice, his feet turning him around to the source of the familiar sound.

“It shows you what you most desire,” spoke Lance, his head hung slightly as he moved to his side, hands in the jacket he would always wear.

“Oh,” Keith let out, staring at the reflection in front of him. Even the mirror could tell how desperate he was and now, with him be his side, he didn’t know how much he could take.

“I found it a couple of years ago, in our second year,” Lance started, Keith turning back to the reflection in front of him.

“I would sit here and watch as my reflection would fade, my whole family appearing around me, holding me, proud smiles on their faces.”

Keith faced him, biting his lip as he listened to what Lance was saying, words lost on his tongue.

“The hours I spent here, sitting, watching them,” Lance turned to him, “It eased my constant homesickness I feel.”

Keith met Lance’s eyes, panic painted across his face. Keith didn’t understand why he was so scared.

“But every since our… kiss… I came here and the image had changed.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith let out, surprised to hear his own voice.

“No. That’s… I’m not blaming you,” Lance started, his hand touching his arm. Keith froze, those ocean blue eyes locked with his. 

“I’m trying to explain that, after that day, all I saw was you.”

A flicker of hope glowed within him. Did he? Was he telling the truth? A wave of emotions cam flooding open, consuming him. 

“You probably want us to be friends again, which I’m fine with. I understand you don’t feel the same,” Keith’s voice wavered, taking a step back, trying to create space between them. Lance clearly had other plans.

“That’s what I thought at first too.”

He stepped closer.

“But then I realised that wasn’t true. I didn’t want to be just friends,” Lance cupped his cheek, a flush of pink spreading across Keith’s face.

“I-- I wanted to be with you.”

Flames engulfed his fears like wildfire, hope burning bright as Keith stared at Lance. He… he felt the same? This must be a dream. A twisted dream that was clawing at the thing he loved most, desired most and using it against him. He wanted this to be true but it just couldn’t, it can’t be.

“Keith?”

Keith didn’t realise he was shaking.

“Are--are you telling the truth?” Keith asked, so quiet only the two of them could hear.

“Well I wouldn’t just make that all up, I’m not smart enough for that,” Lance chuckled, Keith rolling his eyes.

“That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?” Lance asked, his eyebrow raised.

“You are smart. Smart and kind, funny, and… and…”

Keith stared eyes wide as his words were cut off, Lance’s lips on his. Keith felt like he was walking on air, his hand reaching to pull Lance closer, his eyes fluttering. He melted at his touch, Lance kissing him with ferocity it was hard not to fall. The world melted away, leaving just the two of them, their hands intertwined. Keith felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest. Lance was the one to pull back, the two gasping for air. Keith rested his head on Lance’s forehead, biting his lip.

“Can you forgive me?” Lance asked, Keith smiling up at him.

“I don’t know, I think I need more convincing,” Keith smirked, Lance grinning widely.

“That I can do.”

And Lance kissed him again, just as amazing as before. 

They spent the rest of the night in that room, Keith glancing back and forth from the mirror to Lance, seeing no difference at all. Guess he got his happily ever after, after all.


End file.
